Wild cultivation begins with wielding the Taiyin talisman.

In the dead of night, the bright moon hangs high, illuminating all things.

Ning Che felt a bit irritable again, and only after reciting the Ice Cleansing Mantra was he able to relieve the irritation.

Zhong Hongyao remained quiet throughout the journey, focusing solely on her travels without uttering a single word.

Ning Che was somewhat surprised, unaware that he had walked too fast. Zhong Hongyao had exhausted all her strength just by following along and could do nothing else.

The two of them traversed the mud and forests, and when the soles of their shoes finally felt firm, the village of Caixia appeared before them, shrouded in a white mist and surrounded by the shadows of buildings.

The first thing that catches the eye is the stone tablet at the village entrance. It is bluish-gray, over a meter tall, and its surface is mottled from being etched by wind and rain. It bears four characters: "Suppressing Demons and Bringing Peace to the People".

Ning Che stopped in front of the stone tablet, and Zhong Hongyao stopped as well, panting heavily.

The moonlight shone on her back, revealing that the fabric of her emerald green short shirt was soaked with sweat, the color darkening from her shoulder blades to her waist.

Ning Che noticed her fatigue and looked at the calligraphy for a while; it was strong and vigorous. Only after Zhong Hongyao straightened up did they walk towards the village.

The village was dark and quiet, like a riverbed submerged in the night.

A village shouldn't be this quiet at night. There should be the chirping of insects, and a light shining from one of the windows.

But there was nothing there. The outline of the tiled house stood in the moonlight, the doorway silent, the windows like dark eye sockets. Ning Che had to activate his super hearing to hear the sound of breathing inside.

Black Rock Village left a deep impression on him; he almost thought it was another dead village.

Chung Hung-yao seemed to have made a discovery and started walking in one direction.

Although Ning Che didn't know why, he trusted his teammates and followed without hesitation.

After walking for a while, he also smelled something amiss. The air was filled with a very strong medicinal smell, which gradually became so strong that it tasted somewhat bitter.

At the end of the dirt road was an open space where a low stone house could be seen. The walls were made of rough stone, with dried yellow soil filling the gaps between the stones. In front of the house was a well, the bluestone rim of which had been worn deeply into by ropes.

Right beside that ditch, an old man was squatting.

He sat in the gap between the well and the wall, his back against the mud wall, his knees against his chest, his hands on his knees, his knuckles thick, with yellow mud embedded between his fingers.

On the ground in front of him lay several plants of the herb Baijie. He picked up one of them and slowly wiped each leaf with a coarse cloth, from the petiole to the tip of the leaf, before putting the wiped herb into the bamboo basket beside him.

The bamboo basket was almost full.

Hearing footsteps, the old man raised his head. His gaze first fell on the Crescent Moon Blade at Ning Che's waist, then moved to the medicine box on Zhong Hongyao's shoulder, and finally returned to Ning Che's face.

"Are you here to buy Bai Jie Cao (a traditional Chinese medicine)?"

Ning Che unsheathed the Crescent Moon Blade and squatted down opposite him.

"Yes, did you encounter any difficulties in buying so much Bai Jie Cao?"

The old man fell into a long silence.

Only after he finished wiping the last herb in his hand, put it in the bamboo basket, and slowly stood up, supporting himself on his knees, did Ning Che pick up the knife and stand up with him.

The old man paused, sighed, and said, "There used to be a mountain guardian who said that to refine the miasma-dispelling pill, the more Hundred-Remedy Grass the better. We always buy Hundred-Remedy Grass here, so he bought it from us. Moreover, he was generous, paying 20% ​​more per plant than the market price."

After saying that, he walked into the house, and Ning Che followed him.

He stopped, his tone somewhat helpless: "These are all things we promised to give him; we can't give them to you anymore."

Ning Che didn't insist. Instead, he took out a hundred-coin change from the butcher he had bought earlier and handed it to him, saying, "When I came here, I heard the story of Caixia Village, and I have some questions. I wonder if the elder could answer them for me?"

The old man paused for a moment, took the large coin, nodded, and said, "Go ahead and ask."

"I heard that when the commander took office, he killed two powerful demons to control the miasma here and even set up outposts. Now things have improved greatly. Why is it that when you come here, the miasma is still lingering?"

The old man didn't speak, but reached out to support himself against the wall, as if he was very tired.

Ning Che and Zhong Hongyao stood side by side, waiting patiently.

Suddenly, the old man turned around abruptly. The moonlight shone on his face, casting deep shadows that stretched from the corners of his eyes to his jaw, like a dried-up riverbed.

He opened his mouth, his gaze sweeping over Ning Che and Zhong Hongyao for a moment, then closed it again.

"You dare not speak," Ning Che looked at him. "Because that is the leader of our mountain guardians. You harbor resentment, but you are afraid of saying something that might cause trouble."

The old man's lips moved, and his body trembled slightly.

Ning Che reached out to support him.

It took him a while to recover, and he said in a low voice, "Let's go inside and talk."

The stone house was small. Moonlight streamed in through the doorway, illuminating a wooden table, two chairs, and several bundles of neatly tied herbs piled in the corner.

The old man walked to the table, took out an oil lamp, and lit it.

The flame flickered a few times, then settled, and the light illuminated an open booklet on the table.

The booklet's pages were yellowed and curled at the edges, covered with dense writing—not words, but numbers. Line after line, from top to bottom, each line ending with a date.

Ning Che's gaze fell on the booklet. "This is what you wrote down."

The old man nodded: "He's been collecting herbs here for several years, only recently stopped due to drought, and then resumed. I'm in charge of this in the village, so I've kept the records here."

Besides buying from outside, we also grow our own, which is more valuable than grain. But due to a drought, all the herbs we planted died, so we had no choice but to buy up all the available ones on the market.

Zhong Hongyao suddenly said, "The miasma started getting stronger and stronger from the time you planted the Hundred-Remedy Grass, right?"

The old man looked at Zhong Hongyao with surprise and doubt, then nodded and sighed:

"...Yes, we asked the mountain guardian who came to collect the herbs, and she said it had nothing to do with the Hundred-Cure Herb. It was because there was some unusual activity at the Rat Swamp that caused the miasma to become thicker again."

"You believe that so easily?"

"Alas—we dare not disbelieve." The old man's tone was slow, his cloudy eyes shimmering in the moonlight.

"The whole village depends on this herb for a living. Crops are no longer grown, and it's too late to make up for it now. What's more, some people have bought oxen and married beautiful girls by selling this herb. If anyone tells them that there's something wrong with this herb, they're going to ruin their livelihoods."

Others were envious; nobody could stand seeing their neighbors earn so much while they earned so little. Over the past few years, even a runaway horse wouldn't know where it would end up.

Zhong Hongyao fell silent, and Ning Che felt another wave of irritation.

The flame of the oil lamp flickered, casting the old man's shadow on the wall, hunched over like an old tree bent by the wind.